


Nightmare

by bamboozledeagle



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Family Feels, Hurt/Comfort, the kids go trick or treating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-13 22:29:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16480943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bamboozledeagle/pseuds/bamboozledeagle
Summary: Scrooge has a nightmare.I don't have candy to hand out but boy do I have some angst!





	1. Chapter 1

“Donald!” Scrooge cries as the sword goes through his nephew’s back. 

Donald gasps when the blade emerges from his chest. His eyes widen in surprise and he stumbles forward, away from the guard behind him, only to collapse on the ground a few feet away. The sword leaves his assailant’s hands with no resistance, the weapon remaining in Donald’s body. Scrooge wants to throw up.

He hadn’t known the temple would have mechanical protectors. He should have been keeping a closer eye on their surroundings. Scrooge makes an angry noise - some kind of war cry - and rams into the guard, sending it flying into the river next to them.

He doesn’t waste time to see if the guard is still functional. The second he sends the blasted thing flying, he runs to Donald.

The younger duck is collapsed on his side, blood seeping into his shirt. His eyes are closed and Scrooge can’t tell if he’s breathing.

“Donald!?” He falls to his knees and cradles his nephew’s face in one hand while the other goes to his neck, fumbling for a pulse. Donald is limp and cold.

“No. Nonononono-” He scrambles desperately for a pulse. He abandons Donald’s neck and goes for his wrist instead. He swears his heart stops when he still can’t find it. 

Its only when he finally feels Donald’s weak heartbeat, that his own starts up again.

“Donald, can ye hear me?” He calls, and his vision blurs from the tears forming in his eyes, “Please, lad, wake up! Say something!”

Donald whimpers and Scrooge sobs when his blue eyes open.

“Unc…Scr…” He tries before he lets out a pained noise. Scrooge shushes him.

“It’s alright, Lad. I’ve got ye.” He soothes

“I’m going to get you out of here, yer going to be alright.” He says even though he knows its not possible. 

It’s not fair, he just got Della back, his family is whole again, why, why-

“…s’okay…” Donald takes a shaky breath and to Scrooge’s horror gives him a soft, accepting smile.

“y’ don’ need me…” His breath hitches, “…anym…more.”

“What? No, no- lad!” Scrooge is losing him, he’s going to lose Donald. He wants to tell him not to think like that, to hang on just a little longer, to stay with Scrooge another couple minutes. He’s always been greedy.

A couple tears run down Donald’s cheeks. He doesn’t stop smiling.

“Y’ got…Del…la…now…don’…need…m-” He groans in pain and his eyes squeeze shut. He’s pale and sweaty, and his breathing gets more labored with every word.

Scrooge shakes his head, he can’t form any words around the lump in his throat. 

It’s not true, he still needs Donald. Who will yell at him when he goes too far? Who will sit and read with him when the nights get too long? Who will take care of the boys? They need their father. Scrooge needs his nephew. Della…Della needs everyone she can get.

“Uncle Scrooge!” He hears Della in the distance. She and the boys come barreling out of the jungle. Donald’s breathing slows and his eyes don’t open back up.

“UNCLE DONALD?!” Louie screams and the family is by his side in an instant.

“Donald! No, come on I just got you all back! Don’t leave me!” Della begs. 

The boys plead for their Uncle to wake up and by some miracle, Donald opens his eyes again. He’s weak and tired. There isn’t much time left.

“Boys…” Donald breathes and lifts a shaky arm to reach out to them. The triplets latch onto it. Huey wraps both hands around Donald’s, Louie grabs his sleeve, and Dewey clings to them both.

“Dad.” Dewey whimpers

“Don’t leave us.” Huey cries

“We’ll clean our room.” Louie bargains with distress in his voice, “We’ll do whatever you want! But you have to…you have to…”

“Live.” Huey finishes for him.

Donald smiles again, but this time its more genuine and sad.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, “I love…”

He trails off and his eyes drift shut. His body goes slack and the family screams.

Scrooge wakes up with the haunting cold of Donald’s dead body still in his arms.

“Uncle Scrooge!” Donald runs into his room and Scrooge starts bawling when he sees the blue stripes of his nightshirt instead of the bloodstained and darkened black of his sailor shirt.


	2. Chapter 2

Scrooge doesn’t let Donald out of his sight all day. 

It doesn’t bother Donald too much, because he spends all day in the kitchen making food for the Halloween party the Junior Woodchucks are throwing at town hall. 

Scrooge sits at the kitchen table, carefully watching his nephew move around. He hasn’t moved from his chair since Donald first sat him down, wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, and made him tea. 

The kids are oddly quiet when they’re around and Scrooge catches Huey with a guilty look on his face when he thinks no one is looking. 

Donald tells Scrooge he’s going to the bathroom and Scrooge grips the blanket tightly as soon as the younger duck steps out. “Uncle Scrooge?” Dewey says and Scrooge looks down at four sorry ducklings. 

“We’re sorry.” Huey fiddles with his guidebook and keeps his eyes on the floor.

“What for?” Scrooge asks, tension slowly leaving his body as the kids distract him from Donald’s absence.

“We thought since it’s Halloween that we’d scare you and we went to Webby -” Louie explains before Webby cuts him off.

“It’s my fault! I told them about the stone and we snuck it under your bed to scare you and give you nightmares!” She sniffles, “I didn’t think you’d…”

Dewey puts a hand on her shoulder and Scrooge starts to realize what happened. These kids are too clever for their own good. 

“We were all apart of it, it’s our fault you had such a scary nightmare.” Dewey emphasizes the ‘we’ part, taking the blame that Webby was resting on her own shoulders and dividing it among the other three ducklings. 

Scrooge sighs. He can’t be mad, they’re ducklings and they didn’t know any better. He’ll be fine after he stops seeing Donald’s dead body every time he blinks. No harm, no foul.

“It’s alright kids, ye didn’t -”

“But you were screaming!” Dewey interrupts and Scrooge jumps in surprise, “We did something really mean to you!”

“We should have thought it through more.” Huey adds.

“Yeah, what we did wasn’t okay.” Louie pulls his head a little out of his sweater. 

Scrooge blink, impressed by the kids’ acknowledgement that they did something wrong. 

“Have ye learned yer lesson?”

The four nod at worrying speeds.

“Ye won’t do it again?”

They shake their heads just as forcefully.

“Then I won’t punish ye.”

“But-” Webby starts and Scrooge holds up his hand. She falls silent.

“I won’t lie and say that I’m okay, what ye did was…wrong.” The kids flinch, “But ye’ve learned yer lesson and that’s enough for me.”

“So…we can still go trick or treating?” Louie tentatively asks

“You better.” Donald says from the doorway, “I spent weeks on your costumes!”

The kids relax and give small smiles. It’s obvious that they feel terrible about what happened and their shoulders lift as if a huge weight has come off of them.

“Come here.” Donald walks over to the frosting he’s about to put on the sugar cookies, “Try this and tell me if it needs more sugar.”

“ME FIRST!” Huey shouts and the other kids scramble after him. It’s amazing to watch, Scrooge thinks, how Donald is able to turn their moods around within seconds. The kids can call him Uncle all they want, but he’s their father through and through. 

“Where’s Della?” Donald asks, fending off over-eager hands from the cookies.

“She’s in her room.” Dewey answers

“Is she doing what her therapist told her to do?” Donald pushes Huey away from the frosting with one foot. 

“Yeah, her window is open. I think she’s working on getting used to noise again.” Louie reaches for the chocolate pudding on the counter behind Donald.

“Louie if you touch the pudding, I’m confiscating half the candy you get tonight.”

Louie groans and Webby snickers. 

“Go put on your costumes you little rascals, you can eat this at the party.” Donald huffs with a small grin. 

The kids run off excitedly leaving a much cheerful atmosphere in their wake.

“Ye make their costumes?” Scrooge asks while Donald goes back to work.

“Yeah, it’s cheaper and the kids can make it look exactly how they want.” Donald replies

“When did ye learn to sew?” Scrooge raises his eyebrows.

“Oh come on Uncle Scrooge, where do you think Della and I got our costumes from?” Donald glances up at him with humor in his eyes.

Scrooge blinks, he always thought the twins snuck off to buy their halloween costumes from the dollar store with the allowance left over from Grandma’s farm. He hadn’t realized Donald had been the one making them.

“Grandma taught me.” Donald puts the empty icing bowl in the sink and starts to pack up the food, “Fethry tore his hat one day and I asked Grandma what she was doing. The next thing I know, I’m the one patching it up.”

“I am the terror that flaps in the night!” Dewey barrels into the kitchen with a purple cape trailing behind him. 

“Never fear, citizens, for I am here!” Huey bursts in after Dewey wearing cardboard boxes designed to look like Gizmoduck’s suit. Scrooge is surprised by how good it looks.

“Princess-Agent 22, reporting for duty!” Webby flips over Huey’s head. When she lands, Scrooge isn’t entirely sure who or what she’s dressed as. She’s wearing things that are clearly inspired by her grandmother, but the rest almost looks like the dress that princess girl (what was her name? Rapunzel?) from Webby’s favorite movie was wearing. 

Finally, Louie waltzes in wearing a suit with a blue light softly shining from his chest. “Genius, billionaire, philanthropist Tony Stork has arrived.” 

“Do you all have your phones?” Donald asks, packing away the last of the cookies, “You have shoes on?”

“Yes Uncle Donald.” They say

“Okay, is Launchpad-”

“The Thunderquack is ready to fly!” Launchpad throws open the door to the garage. He’s in a Darkwing Duck outfit similar to Dewey’s. The kids whoop and run out to the limousine, now decorated to look like Darkwing Duck’s jet.

“Um,” A quiet voice calls from the other side of the kitchen. Della stands nervously in the doorway, “Donald, do you think…could I go with them?”

“Do you think you can handle so many people?” Donald asks, gently

“No, not - not to the party but…maybe trick or treating?” She nervously rubs her neck. Donald and Scrooge grin, she’s making excellent progress reintegrating herself back into the world. The moon deprived Della of many things and her senses get overwhelmed easily by things as small as the smell of a flower or even the everyday noises of the mansion. Her therapy has been progressing nicely, however, and it’s good that she wants to get out of the house.

“Of course.” Donald beams, “Launchpad is taking them to the party and they’re all going to go off in groups afterwards. I’ll be there the whole time, so if you need anything…”

Della waves him off, her eyes twinkling in amusement at her brother’s maternal nature, “I know, Donald. Thanks.”

Scrooge goes with them to the party. He doesn’t leave Donald’s side for a moment. The party goes well and so does the trick or treating. Della makes it through a large portion of the night before going back to the mansion. The other parents head home with their kids soon after until it’s only the duck family that remains. Launchpad leads the way to each new house, the kids still going strong behind him. Scrooge and Donald follow at a more sedated pace with fondness in their eyes and warmth in their hearts. 

“Uncle Scrooge?” Donald steals Scrooge’s attention away from the kids. The night is pleasantly warm and the dark of the night is soothing. Above them, the stars and the moon shine. For the first time all day, Scrooge is relaxed.

“Do you want to tell me what happened last night?” Scrooge stiffens and comes to a stop. Donald follows suit and gives his Uncle a worried look. 

Scrooge blinks and Donald has that soft, accepting look on his face again. “I-” He starts and then cuts himself off, “Lad, ye know that we -” No that’s not right, “that I -” Better, “need ye…right?”

Donald’s eyebrows furrow, “Scrooge you don’t - you’ve never needed anyone.”

Scrooge shakes his head, desperation clawing at his chest. He needs Donald to understand, he needs to make Donald see the truth before it’s too late. 

“That’s not true!” He cries and grasps Donald’s shoulders, “When you and the boys left I was devastated. I forgot what it meant to have a family once,” He can still hear his sister yelling at him, it was the day he became the richest duck in the world and also the loneliest, “and I learned how wrong I was when ye and Della came into my life. I don’t ever want to be that way again.”

He pulls Donald into a tight hug, willing his words to sink in, “I need my family, Donald. I need you.”

Scrooge feels Donald return the hug. They’re alone, the kids and Launchpad left them in the dust a while ago, and in the silence of the night Uncle and Nephew hold each other as tight as they can. They pretend they can’t hear each other sniffling.

“Yer one of the best things that ever happened to me. Don’t you ever forget that.”


End file.
